Blood Brothers I: Growing Up
by Temporary-ness
Summary: Instead of a single son, she gave birth to two...leaving the world baffled, a prophecy unravelled, and such a beautiful companionship, it changed everything that could have been AU


**Prologue**

He was _bolting_. There was no other word for it, however much the proud, human part of him revolted at the completely _horsy_ word. But Chiron felt it coming before anybody. He had felt it before the spiders in the forest had closed their cave and before the snakes had sought shelter in the coolness of their mud; the porlocks as usual, had run to the clearings and had gathered in their herds; towards the marshes, deep within the forest, the dugbogs had receded far down, in fear of the boiling magic that made the air thick, the senses dull and left the innards of every living organism, quaking in fear. But Chiron felt more than all creatures. Oh, much more! The heavy sensation of the magic itself gave away the importance of the oncoming prophecy. He could feel every muscle, every bone and every nerve down to the strained one in his left hoof quivering in anticipation.

He turned swiftly avoiding the group of gathering centaurs. He leaped over the puddle of water, reached the edge of the cliff and fell onto his knees, his muscles trembling at the strenuous exercise. He could feel the gathering behind him. He could feel the low rumbling of the older centaurs as they calmed down the young ones. They were trying to keep them in order before one of them…No! One impatient foal took two steps forward towards the prostrate centaur. Frustration welled within him as almost immediately, the magic put a barrier between the gathering and him. No one would hear him now. The magic would not allow it. It swelled in power and the song strained for release. As his vocal chords expanded, he dug his hoofs into the ground, willing Gaea to listen, to control and to shape the future. He closed his eyes in satisfaction as he felt her _agree, mold and moderate_. Unknowing, Uncaring of the chain of events he was about to set off, he let the magic take control and release itself in the form of music. His voice _soared_…

* * *

His voice _soared_ as he spun around, delivering the final blow to the man in black "Stupefy!" Dumbledore could feel the heavy nature of the magic in the air even as he turned to face his new opponent. The man bowed mockingly and Dumbledore easily side stepped the spell that came with it. "Good Evening Lucius. It _is_ a pleasant evening isn't it?" The man seemed to snarl and his wand snapped downwards, "Reducto!" His anger grew as his opponent vanished into thin air. He spun around himself, disapparating, even as blue light grazed past the place where his black cloak had once been.

"Crucio" the cry from behind him came, followed by the agonizing sounds of a woman screaming in pain. Dumbledore spun around, ready to stun the user of the Unforgivable. Then he felt something stir, deep within the Forest. It was something beautiful, something dangerous. Then, as the magic in the air grew to suffocating proportions, time seemed to stop. It is sometimes a wonder, how the mind comes so quickly to conclusions, even in the limitations of a second. Like the calm before the storm, the air trembled and a light breeze ruffled the hair of the suddenly still fighters. It carried a scent of violets: freshly bloomed violets. Dumbledore's eyes widened, as the last piece of jigsaw fell into place in his month. No mere Halloween indeed. It was a prophetic one. His heart ached as he realized the consequences of the night—lives lost, destinies set, future decided. He intimately knew the trouble prophecies brought with them. His eyes involuntarily turned towards Lucius Malfoy whose eyes were also wide in comprehension. But as quickly as that had come, the eyes seemed to dilate in pain. In unison, all the death eaters turned white in pain and the left arm involuntarily twitched. Lucius Malfoy cried out in a harsh voice to the lady with her wand concentrated on the once-screaming woman, "Disapparate, you fool!" Pointing towards the sky, taking advantage of the surprise of their opponents he cried out, "Morsmordre!"

Even as the death eaters apparated out, Dumbledore had turned and was moving towards the castle. He apparated to the gates, and was just pushing them open, when his very essence trembled. His magic shuddered and called out to the rising power towards the south. He stood, senses sharp, ready to move at a sound. His eyes scanned the dark forest for movement, but all he could feel was a deep, all-entrenching sensation of magic. He turned to apparate for the hundredth time that day. Even as he readied himself to move, there was a single pop to his left. He swirled, wand raised, ready to attack, only to face a startled lady in a singed tartan robe. He visibly calmed down but his wand was still steady.

"Well Minerva?"

"Albus, the Po-" She stopped short, as her mind registered the question. "Oh! For heavens sake! It's Raspberry jam, Albus!"

He immediately relaxed and lowered his wand, but didn't look any less anxious. She immediately burst out, "Albus, you must leave immediately. The Potters! They-! Oh dear! I can't believe it myself. Alastor said that there were disturbances all over tonight. Of course, one would expect _him_ to attack on Hallow's eve! We were expecting it! But certainly noy so many! He said you must go to Godric's hollow immediately. The wards are still up. But how they continue to stand I don't understand. He also said that the place will start swarming with Aurors soon! But what he means me to make of that, I don't know"

The lines around his eyes increased and the strained look did not disappear. "Minerva, go find Hagrid. Tell him to go find Sirius Black and to be careful."

She paled at those words and seemed to stagger. "No! Not Sirius Black! He wouldn't - they were so- two peas-" She was incoherent and her face was stark white in shock, horror and almost unwilling comprehension.

Albus looked weary, and he patted her arm. "Remember my message, Minerva." He disapparated away, leaving her staring at the recently vacated place with a misgiving expression.

_Let them be okay. Please, for the love of magic, let them be okay…_


End file.
